


How About a Hot Chocolate Instead?

by mcschnuggles



Series: Schnugg's Regressuary 2021 [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, CGRE - Caregiver/Age Regressor, Caregiver!Perfuma, Gen, Regressing!Scorpia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29158560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcschnuggles/pseuds/mcschnuggles
Summary: Every day, Scorpia comes in and orders the same thing. So when she doesn't show up one day, Perfuma suspects the worst.
Relationships: Perfuma & Scorpia (She-Ra)
Series: Schnugg's Regressuary 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138382
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25
Collections: Regressuary, Regressuary 2021





	How About a Hot Chocolate Instead?

One lowfat mocha caramel latte and a blueberry scone.

That’s the order that Perfuma has memorized after making it every morning for a month straight. At this point, it’s ritual for Perfuma to stand up a little straighter at eight-thirty, ready for the usual routine.

Plumeria Café is one of the more popular coffee shops in the city, and their morning rush is nothing to sneeze at, but it’s also become routine for her coworkers to keep her available for when her very special customer comes in.

Every day, like clockwork, Scorpia will come in at exactly eight-thirty in the morning, place her order, and chat for ten minutes before going on her way.

At first she wasn’t Scorpia. She was just “the chatty buff lady with the easy to remember order,” but there are only so many conversations you can have with someone before you know the name you’re writing on their cup by heart.

Perfuma just couldn’t wrap her head around why her coworkers had designated her as “Scorpia’s barista.” They said it like Scorpia was annoying, like she wasn’t the sweetest customer they got most days and didn’t leave a five dollar tip every day without fail.

It’s not even that she’s pushy. At most, Scorpia will show Perfuma a funny cat picture she saw earlier that day, or talk about how excited she is for the current weather. It doesn’t matter what the current weather is, be it snow or rain or sun, because Scorpia has something good to see in all of it.

And if they’re busy, Scorpia makes it her mission to help. They’ve only had a handful of rush days in the past few months, but every time, Scorpia will ask, “what’s one thing that would help you right now?”

Usually Perfuma says something stupid, like a Red Bull or a Monster, and Scorpia delivers each and every time. She never asks for money back, despite Perfuma’s insistence.

It’s a welcome presence in her day. She’s not sure how, but it’s just impossible to start the day wrong when Scorpia’s smiling face is one of the first things she sees during her shift.

Then, for the first time in months, Scorpia doesn’t show up.

At first, Perfuma thinks she might just be running late. Maybe she got caught at a crowded crosswalk, or maybe she slept in late. But five minutes quickly turns to fifteen, which turns into an hour and then rolls over into two.

Perfuma’s first instinct is to worry. She can’t help it; that’s what she does. She fusses and mother hens and worries, and the only thing she can do to beat back the niggling worry is to try and rationalize it. Maybe Scorpia just wasn’t in the mood for coffee today. There are a million explanations that don’t point to the worst case scenario, and Perfuma ignores all of them in favor of working herself up.

The day rolls by slowly. Perfuma gave up on Scorpia showing up late around two, so imagine her surprise when Scorpia shows up just ten minutes before Perfuma plans to clock out.

Perfuma perks up at the sight of her favorite customer, but looking at Scorpia, she immediately gets the sense something is wrong.

Scorpia’s shoulders are hunched, her eyes downcast. She looks like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders and she’s absolutely miserable about it. In the months she’s been coming in, Perfuma has never once seen her like this.

Perfuma struggles to find the right words when she’s wholly out of her element. “Long day at work?” she asks.

Scorpia manages a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Something like that.”

God, it must have been a rough day. Up close, she looks even worse. Dark circles frame her undereye, and does she look a little paler than usual? If Perfuma were in charge, she’d be prescribing a nap, not caffeine, but she’s sure Scorpia doesn’t want to be fussed over, regardless of the day she’s had. “Let me get that latte started for you.”

“Actually, can I get a hot chocolate?” Scorpia smiles again, this time apologetically. “If that’s okay?”

There’s something vulnerable about her. Perfuma would dare to call it childlike. Maybe it’s just because she looks in desperate need of a nap. A hug and a nap.

“Sure.” Perfuma glances at her watch, breathing a silent sigh of relief that her shift is almost over. “Hey, I’m gonna be off after this. Would you maybe, I don’t know, wanna go somewhere and talk about it?”

Scorpia’s eyes go wide, like she never expected the kindness she regularly gives out to make its way back to her. “Oh, that’s okay. You really don’t have to.”

“But I _want_ to.” Perfuma insists, only realizing once the words are out that that’s a little too insistent. “I mean, only if you want to, of course.”

“I mean, if you want to, I’m not gonna stop you.”

“Yeah, but if you want to—” Perfuma cuts herself off. “Just wait for me, okay? Or else we’ll be here all night.”

She makes quick work of cleaning up and clocking out. She doesn’t have to tidy, but she always wants things looking nice for the night shift people.

Perfuma shivers as the cold air hits her. She doesn’t have much to protect her against the evening chill, just a flimsy sweater that’s more fashion than function.

“You don’t have to walk with me.” Scorpia says. There’s a quiver in her voice. “I’ll be okay.”

“Hey, you’ve saved my butt with free Red Bull. I might as well return the favor with some hot chocolate and a walk.”

“It’s a comfort drink.” Scorpia explains. “Whenever I was sad, my parents used to make it for me. And, I don’t know, I was hoping it would help? Does that make sense?”

“Completely.” Perfuma stops, placing a gentle hand on Scorpia’s shoulder and guiding her toward the crosswalk. “Up ahead, in the park. There’s a bench right by a lake if you want to sit for a while.”

It’s a little off the trail, partially obscured by the bushes, so it’s a spot that’s not nearly as popular as it should be. It has a nice view of the lake, so even on a colder night like this, the water reflects the street lights in the most gorgeous of ways.

“Oh wow.” Scorpia takes a hesitant seat on one side of the bench, giving Perfuma more than enough space. Perfuma never noticed it before, but Scorpia really does slot herself off to the side, like she’s preemptively trying to stay out of people’s way. “This is so nice.”

“I always come here on my lunch breaks.” Perfuma sits beside her, trying to put a respectful distance between them without looking like she’s trying to avoid contact. If anything, she wants to scoop Scorpia into a million consecutive hugs. “It’s a nice place to read. And maybe to talk about things that are bothering you? If you’re willing?”

The conflict that passes through Scorpia’s expression is complicated. She’s said it herself that she’s a talker—and a hugger—so the fact that she feels so out of her element with either is concerning to say the least.

“It’s… hard to explain,” Scorpia finally answers. “I mean—it wasn’t like a breakup or anything. It was a friend breakup, if that makes sense. Does that make sense?”

“Makes perfect sense to me.”

“It’s been… hard,” Scorpia admits. Her breath audibly catches. “First losing my folks and now this. She was my _best_ friend. Actually, she was my only friend. And now I’m alone.” She offers a weak chuckle, even though nothing about this situation is funny.

“Oh, hun.” The nickname comes out before Perfuma can stop it. Most people roll their eyes when she starts busting out the nicknames, but Scorpia doesn’t immediately pull away, so she counts it as a victory.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” Scorpia drops her head. “I know the library people were getting sick of me. My entire life has basically become a big cycle of work and trying to keep everything my parents left in order.”

“That must be hard,” Perfuma sympathizes. “I couldn’t get sick of you, though, if that means anything.”

“It does.” Scorpia rocks forward, refusing to make eye contact. “A lot, actually. Thanks.”

“Good. I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Thanks. It… wasn’t a good friendship. She just knew a lot of personal things about me and I didn’t want to be alone.”

Perfuma nods. From the way Scorpia is skirting around the subject, she probably doesn’t want to talk about it, so Perfuma won’t push it.

“That sucks. I’m so sorry.” Perfuma wants to say more, but it’s clear she doesn’t have to. Simply lending an ear, letting Scorpia talk it out on her own, is helping, even if it makes Perfuma feel kind of useless.

“She was… _mean_ ,” Scorpia says, an edge in her voice like she’s only now realizing this herself. “I didn’t deserve that, did I?”

She looks to Perfuma for guidance, and her face is so lost that Perfuma’s heart instantly crumbles. “Of course you didn’t.”

Perfuma barely has time to react before she has a lapful of sobbing Scorpia.

“Oh, it’s okay.” She hastily combs her fingers through Scorpia’s hair in an attempt to soothe her. “Just cry it out, muffin.”

She’s so sure that that would be the line, but instead of snapping out of it, Scorpia only falls further into her own head.

Perfuma tries her best to be soothing, running her hand up and down Scorpia’s back until her sobs die off.

“Thank you. I didn’t mean to…” Scorpia trails off, rubbing at her eyes. She doesn’t even have the energy to sit back up, and stays with her head in Perfuma’s lap. “I really needed that.”

“Anytime.” Perfuma cards her fingers through Scorpia’s hair. “Stay like this for as long as you need, okay?”

Scorpia’s hand tightens around the hem of Perfuma’s skirt. Tears are still beaded in the corners of her eyes, but just that small comfort was enough to take a visible weight off her shoulders. “I’d like that.”

Then they go back to life as usual.

Well, except for the fact that Scorpia and Perfuma hang out on weekends. Sometimes they drink wine and watch Netflix shows. Sometimes they drink coffee and go book shopping. And sometimes, when those familiar sparks of the lost girl pop back up, Perfuma will make hot chocolate, and they’ll curl up on the couch without a single word between them.

Hot chocolate has become a signal between them, a message that Scorpia’s feeling… however she’s feeling. Perfuma can’t quite describe it, other than vulnerable—childlike, even.

But when Perfuma is there, no matter how hard the day, Scorpia can still manage a hint of a smile, and that’s how Perfuma knows it will be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> mcschnuggles.tumblr.com


End file.
